The trunk that taught me

One of my oldest projects is a large trunk that’s survived half a dozen moves since I made it over 40 years ago. Constructed of solid 3/4" red oak, it weighs a ton, and could probably withstand being dropped off a moving pickup truck without a scratch.  

But as indestructible as it seems to be, it has succumbed to one bit of natural damage — cracking from simple wood movement. In the composite image below, you can see the trunk and detail shots of the worst crack, but there’s a similar one on a back corner.   

I made it right after our daughter was born, although I had no real shop or tools to speak of. Our patio was my “shop” (when not raining), and my most sophisticated power tools were a drill, sander and jigsaw. Fine for home repairs and birdhouses, but I wanted to build a substantial piece of furniture for our daughter, so I sent away for a kit from a catalog. 

Almost everything was sized, and already included tongue-and-dado joinery, but it still took a considerable amount of work. In the end I not only built a nice, solid trunk, but also learned a lot about joinery even though I wasn’t yet knowledgeable enough to cut it all myself. 

Unfortunately, the kit didn’t mention the eventual wood movement at all those glued joints being inevitable, and I was too green to know. So, I followed the instructions as presented and glued up the carcase, only to be disappointed when cracks appeared a few seasons later.  

This was my first-ever lesson on damaging wood movement, so it ended up being an important learning experience. The cracks long ago settled but remain as a reminder of how far I’ve come. I’ve considered on more than one occasion fixing the cracks, but the trunk is still solid as a rock so I’ve left them alone. Besides, the cracks have been there so long that they’ve become part of the trunk’s character, as well as a reminder of my evolution as a woodworker.